


Grievous Infatuation

by porcelainepeony



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, but it isn't really graphic because i cannot porn, hints of porn, okay so maybe not hints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-05 21:32:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4195683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porcelainepeony/pseuds/porcelainepeony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mayuzumi thought he heard his name roll off Akashi's tongue, a sweet, soft chant that was unlike Akashi's usual condescending tone. He mentally cursed and logged away that memory as if he were a pirate and each of Akashi's murmurs and pleas were the most beautiful of treasures in the world.</p><p>And they were. Akashi was perfect. Everything he did, everything he said. The way his eyes pierced Mayuzumi's heart. The way his smile ripped holes in Mayuzumi's chest. The way his hand brushed over Mayuzumi's as they walked home together. His voice and laugh and lips. The way he moved on the court. The way his fingers burned Mayuzumi’s skin in bed.</p><p>Mayuzumi hated everything about Akashi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grievous Infatuation

Notes: Mayuzumi suffers in five stages. Poor boy has a crush. Written too quickly for any of it to make sense (probably.) I’ll come back and proofread it later. 

xxx

Denial

Akashi's legs were trembling as his fingers wove and brushed and pulled Mayuzumi's hair, a silent supplication for the older boy to continue consuming him until Akashi was nothing more than a puddle of exhaustion and warmth in Mayuzumi's arms. And so, never one to deny his captain, at least not when it came to having Akashi break into quiet moans and hushed whines, Mayuzumi took more of Akashi's length into his mouth, swallowed as much of him as he could till Akashi screamed and released into Mayuzumi's mouth. Mayuzumi thought he heard his name roll off Akashi's tongue, a sweet, soft chant that was unlike Akashi's usual condescending tone. He mentally cursed and logged away that memory as if he were a pirate and each of Akashi's murmurs and pleas were the most beautiful of treasures in the world.

And they were. Akashi was perfect. Everything he did, everything he said. The way his eyes pierced Mayuzumi's heart. The way his smile ripped holes in Mayuzumi's chest. The way his hand brushed over Mayuzumi's as they walked home together. His voice and laugh and lips. The way he moved on the court. The way his fingers burned Mayuzumi’s skin in bed.

Mayuzumi hated everything about Akashi. Even at that moment, when Mayuzumi pulled away, swallowed every last drop of Akashi that remained on his tongue, and looked up, gray eyes shadowing—Mayuzumi hoped—his true, but fleeting—Mayuzumi begged the fates they were fleeting—feelings. Even as Akashi looked down, fingers gently sweeping through Mayuzumi's hair, causing jolts of fire to streak down Mayuzumi's body. Even as Akashi, poised and graceful and breathtakingly beautiful— _stupid brat_ —fell to his knees in front of Mayuzumi and pressed their lips together. Even then, Mayuzumi hated Akashi. 

It was what Mayuzumi told himself. Every night, as Akashi's hands traveled Mayuzumi’s body, as Akashi’s lips stole Mayuzumi’s breath, as Mayuzumi gripped Akashi's hips and bruised ivory skin—Mayuzumi quietly repeated, over and over, that he hated Akashi. Nothing else could explain the way his mind boiled and his chest rippled at the mere sight of the redhead. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"Chihiro," Akashi murmured, his warm breath fluttering softly against Mayuzumi's shoulder as Mayuzumi pressed into him.

Akashi was fire, and Mayuzumi did not want to entertain the idea of throwing himself into hell at such a young age. Not without enough water to put out the raging flames that threatened to scorch his very soul. But his thoughts laughed at him. He was already buried in the flames and suffocating on smoke.

xxx

Anger

"What are you doing here?" 

/And can't you leave?/

There was malice in Mayuzumi's tone, though it was not entirely intentional. He wasn't sure why, but seeing Akashi on the rooftop that particular day was unnerving, and before he could stop himself from opening his mouth, the ugly words were regurgitated.

The sun blazed. It hung right behind Akashi's head and created a bright blanket around the first-year captain. The image caused Mayuzumi to scoff. It figured that the sun’s rays would grace the devil with whom he was sleeping. 

"I thought we could eat lunch together."

/As if./

"I'm not eating lunch," came Mayuzumi's curt reply. Mayuzumi had no time to chatter with Akashi, and, quite frankly, he didn't want to talk to him. "I'm not in the mood today."

Akashi didn't leave, but then, Mayuzumi didn't expect the great Akashi Seijuurou to listen to anyone. "You've been distant."

/You're perceptive./

When Mayuzumi didn't reply, Akashi sat down beside him. Akashi was warm, and despite the small distance between them, Mayuzumi knew that, beneath the clothes, Akashi was even warmer. "Is something wrong, Chihiro?"

/Feigning concern now, are we?/

"I want to read."

A small _ah_ left Akashi's lips, and even that reply was enough to make Mayuzumi's blood simmer. But he ignored Akashi, glued his gaze to the pages of his light novel, and pretended that Akashi wasn't there. That his warm, tender body wasn't pressing slightly against Mayuzumi's own, that his breathing wasn't lulling Mayuzumi into a false sense of security, that Akashi’s red and amber gaze wasn't brimming with genuine care and wonder and perhaps a intimation of something more.

Mayuzumi relished in his own irritation, knowing very well that his rage was directed at no one but himself.

xxx

Bargaining

Ignoring the sun never worked. Clouds could attempt to cover it, but its brilliance would always radiate. Even the biggest of trees couldn't stop the sun from shining down on the unfortunate who desperately sought some form of shelter from the burning beauty. So what could one poor boy's attempt at snubbing such a powerful entity accomplish? Mayuzumi settled for basking in the glow, showering in the warmth, and hoping that, one day, the sun would cease to torment him so. 

But a shadow like Mayuzumi could not exist without light.

"What are you reading, Mayuzumi-sempai?"

Akashi's question lingered in the air as Mayuzumi finished a sentence in his book. The first-year captain was sprawled across Mayuzumi's body, a flushed cheek pressed softly against Mayuzumi's bare chest, fingers idly moving across Mayuzumi’s collarbones. Mayuzumi thought about the way their bodies fit together, almost as if Mayuzumi was constructed solely for Akashi, almost as if Akashi was made only for Mayuzumi. 

The gods had a funny sense of humor.

"It's the final installment of ‘A Clockwork Apple and Honey and Little Sister’."

"May I read it when you're finished?"

Mayuzumi raised a brow and looked at Akashi. The sincerity in his voice made Mayuzumi shiver. "It'll cost you." 

Akashi smiled against Mayuzumi's chest, pressed his lips against a rib, and pushed himself up. Gingerly, he took the book from Mayuzumi's hand and let it fall beside them on the bed.

"What the--"

Mayuzumi was hushed by Akashi's lips, and frowning into the kiss was all Mayuzumi could do before his hands instinctively came to rest on Akashi's hips. A soft moan fluttered between them, but neither knew to whom it belonged. Frankly, neither cared. Not when Akashi began to incessantly rub his growing erection against Mayuzumi’s, not when Akashi’s hands traveled up Mayuzumi’s chest and neck and came to rest sweetly on Mayuzumi’s cheeks.

“How much?”

Red eyes dared Mayuzumi for the highest price.

/Your heart./

But Mayuzumi only laughed, turned his head slightly to kiss Akashi’s palm, and forced his hips up. The sight of Akashi melting was almost enough payment.

xxx

Depression

It was hard enough that Mayuzumi had never had a full on crush on an actual person before—honestly, fancying the characters in his light novels was so much easier—but having a crush—and that was all it was—on Akashi—Akashi _fucking_ Seijuurou of all _fucking_ people—was the most disconcerting bit of information Mayuzumi's brain had ever processed. 

Being teammates had been difficult enough. Akashi's haughty attitude and stupid—painstakingly beautiful—smile had been about as much as Mayuzumi could take. Yet, somewhere along the line, in the midst of sweaty practices and useless quality time spent on Sundays with the entire team, Mayuzumi had gone astray.

Friends with benefits, Akashi had said one day as he pushed Mayuzumi against a wall, never mind trying to be discrete. Akashi's lips were on Mayuzumi’s faster than Mayuzumi could blink. He had never even agreed to the arrangement. Not out loud anyway. Instead, Mayuzumi had pulled Akashi closer and left a trail of bright red marks all along Akashi’s pale neck and chest, hips and thighs. Mayuzumi hadn’t agreed, but he hadn’t disagreed, and he never once thought about stopping.

Being friends with benefits was okay. Mayuzumi didn't mind undressing Akashi in the locker room after everyone had left. He didn't mind pushing Akashi against the shower walls; he didn't mind being shoved against Akashi's bed and fucked mindlessly into the mattress. He didn’t mind their rooftop make outs or their lazy Sunday morning lovemaking. No, Mayuzumi didn't mind being Akashi's plaything. Not one bit, for Akashi was Mayuzumi’s plaything too.

But it was a lie. A nicely construed lie to help Mayuzumi get through the type of high school and college drama that he read about in his light novels. It was a lie to help him forget that having Akashi in his bed, moaning _Mayuzumi-san_ , attempting to pull Mayuzumi into his very soul was not all Mayuzumi wanted. Daydreams of swallowing Akashi whole, of savoring the sweat that trickled down his spine, of running his hands down creamy thighs had turned into daydreams of stupidly cuddling Akashi, of wrapping Akashi in blankets and making him hot cocoa on cold nights, and of maybe even holding his hand as they walked together at the mall. Dreams of making Akashi scream as he came had turned into dreams of hearing his disgustingly serene laughter first thing in the morning, of listening to the sweet way he said _Mayuzumi-senpai_ even though Mayuzumi had graduated months ago. Thoughts of having Akashi rip him open and having him invade Mayuzumi’s entire being until all he could think about was Akashi had turned into thoughts of falling asleep to the soft melody of Akashi's breathing as he rested beside Mayuzumi, completely unaware of the tender way Mayuzumi's gaze lingered on his face as he fell asleep. 

Mayuzumi cursed at himself. It was Sunday. Noon. His phone had been buzzing on his nightstand for the past four hours, but the curtains were still drawn, and his mind was flooding his senses with pointless teenage angst. 

xxx

Acceptance

Mayuzumi's favorite pastime was smoothing his hands along Akashi's body. If he brushed the right place, Akashi would shudder or gasp or whisper _Mayuzumi-san_ delicately, and Mayuzumi would lose touch with reality and sear until he became nothing more than a pile of ash.

Strong legs secured Mayuzumi in place as Akashi moved his hips rhythmically, up and down, over and over, faster and faster. Mayuzumi wondered how it was possible for Akashi to fit so perfectly on his lap and shuddered, trying hard not to let the racing of his heart overcome his senses. Akashi's hands gripped Mayuzumi's shoulders, threatened to stab fingernails into soft flesh if the last shards of his sanity ripped. And they would. Mayuzumi would make sure of it.

Carefully, Mayuzumi secured his hold around Akashi's waist. One hand traveled up a sweaty back. Fingers brushed through bright red strands of hair, and Mayuzumi mentally mused at how utterly opposite they were. Mayuzumi was dull, ever so invisible, a shadow. Akashi was bright, consuming, a beacon. Mayuzumi smiled faintly, leaned close, and clumsily kissed Akashi along his jawline. When their lips met, Akashi let out a moan and moved his hands to Mayuzumi's cheeks. He never stopped moving, and Mayuzumi pathetically wondered with how many people Akashi had done this very same thing. 

"Beautiful," Mayuzumi murmured into the kiss, pulling back slightly only to recapture Akashi's lips. He knew Akashi was confused at the softly-whispered word, could feel it in the way his muscles tensed—or was he close to coming? Either way, Mayuzumi smiled again, broke the kiss, and stared in soul-consuming eyes until they were both breathless messes and clinging onto each other as if they were the only lifelines left and the world itself was crashing and dissolving around them.

Perhaps it was.

“I love you, Mayuzumi-san.”

Mayuzumi blinked. Perhaps he had fallen asleep. Maybe Akashi was playing a cruel joke—it wouldn’t be the first. /Or you could be dreaming, and dream Akashi could be pulling your leg./

“Mayuzumi-san, don’t ignore me.”

There were the commands again. It seemed as if the only times Akashi would stop giving orders were the times they were tangled in each other and begging for release.

“I was lost in thought.”

It wasn't a complete lie.

A pause, perfectly calculated. “You heard me.”

/I did, but I don’t want to believe you./

“So?”

More often than not, Mayuzumi did not like to listen to Akashi. On most of those occasions, Akashi didn’t lose his usual composure. Calm indifference was stuck to his face the way caramel stuck to teeth. But, for once, a flash of emotion—sadness? anger? confusion? battered and broken hope?—flickered through Akashi’s eyes, and Mayuzumi hated himself for being human and falling in love with perfection.

Akashi sighed softly and pushed himself off and away from Mayuzumi. It was always a mystery to Mayuzumi, how Akashi regained his energies so quickly and stood up looking as tall and majestic as ever.

Quickly, Mayuzumi reached out and grabbed Akashi’s wrist, almost falling forward as he threw himself to his feet.

Akashi barely had time to register what had happened. Instead, he was pulled into Mayuzumi’s arms and smothered by Mayuzumi’s lips.

When Mayuzumi pulled away, he met his gaze to Akashi’s and frowned. “Where do you think you’re going?”

"Home."

The word was simple enough, but it burned, and Mayuzumi's brain refused to register it. Instead, his mind screamed at him to move, so Mayuzumi wrapped his arms around Akashi, refusing to let go. /This is your home,/ he repeated. /Right here./ And though he knew Akashi couldn't read minds, no matter what other worldly powers he seemed to possess over everyone he ever encountered, Akashi hugged him back and buried his face against Mayuzumi's shoulder. 

"I love you, too." It was funny how a few simple words were enough to stress even the most relaxed of people in the world, but when those words promised a flurry of smiles and kisses and warmth, even Mayuzumi wasn't sure how to cope with his feelings. He still wasn't even sure what the words meant. Not really. The only thing he knew was that they carried his very soul, and he wanted Akashi to see him—to see the _real_ him—bare and open. 

"I know," came the soft reply. 

Somehow, Mayuzumi had become resistant to fire, but his heart would be forever ablaze.


End file.
